Valentine’s Day

Valentine’s Day. The day to pamper that special someone in your life with store bought chocolate that will put unwanted weight on their hips, and flowers that will die in 2 days.

Say what?

No, I am not a “Down with Valentine’s Day” supporter. I like being pampered. I like when my husband comes home with flowers to surprise me. And yes I eat chocolate.

…..

And yes my hips are wider than I would like. But let’s not dwell on that.

This morning, I got up and made my Hubby’s sandwich before he left for work. I made his breakfast. I made sure he got his multivitamin. I feed the goats, and let the chickens out of the coop. My cat is sleeping on my lap, and the dogs are now snoozing on the bed. Just like every other day.

And that is ok. In everyday things is where true love is found.

Like when I pick up Hubby’s socks, because Every. Single. Day. He leaves them on the floor. Do I complain? Yes some days. But I pick them up anyways. I clean the house and make dinner and put away the laundry. The every day mundane tasks that let my husband know how much I love him.

But April? Don’t you get sick of it? Doesn’t it bother you? Don’t you want more for your life?

No.

I want a happy husband, that knows he is respected. I want him to eat good food, to not go to work on an empty stomach, and to not have to buy a processed prefab on the run lunch. I make the bread for his sandwiches because homemade bread is the best. I make sure his work clothes are always clean and…well at least folded. Some days hanging the clothes up seems to get pushed to the back of the line.

But that’s ok because even when I forget to make bread (and have to use the bread maker and set it to come on at 4 am, startling him out of a deep sleep, so that he can have fresh bread), or don’t get to hanging the clothes up in the closet, or go shopping with my mother and end up gone for the entire day and come running in at 6 o’clock like a whirlwind trying to get dinner on the table, and the groceries put away (and the new article of clothing or household decor that I found at the second hand shop hidden away like it has always been here…ahem what?…), he still loves me.

He opens the car door for me every single time. He helps me with my coat. He works hard everyday so that I can live this life. I am so incredibly blessed with the husband that I have.

Now don’t get me wrong. We are both human. Some days we fight. Some days his stubbornness and man ego forbids him from admitting he is wrong, and some days my nagging just gets out of control. But in the end it comes down to who you do the small things for day in and day out. How you truly feel isn’t shown one day a year with some chocolates and roses and black lace. How you truly feel is shown when the dirty socks are laying on the floor just steps from the hamper…again.

And, quite frankly, there is no one else’s dirty socks that I would rather pick up day in and day out than his.

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